


Drabble : O Hero

by paladzin



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Character Death, Grieving, Levi Ackerman - Freeform, attack on titan - Freeform, shingeki no kyojin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29229918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paladzin/pseuds/paladzin
Summary: Drabble Prompt : I will write about my character mourning yours. ( contain spoilers for non-manga readers )





	Drabble : O Hero

**Isn’t it lovely. . .**   
  
  
a rotting rose crumbling / bloom from softened luster pinks **& **crimson. end & die by petals wilting. rib cage is cracking, what little heart strings he held onto feel so frayed & tethered. He is UNRAVELING at the seams. Bone bites down on to flesh, tugging at the threads that hold skin together. He ignores the burn it makes, ignores everything except this. He cannot ignore this.  
**_( all alone )_**  
the last one to thrive among a rusted kingdom. He is the sole carry of one bright feathers that now are molten & falling apart. _don’t do this. . . do not regret anything choice you’ve made!_ **IT IS LOUD & ECHOING**. It hurts just the same. just the same as it had years ago, has it been years now? Time has been a blur, he can’t tell whats what anymore. does it matter anyways _ **?**_ a laugh that is as hollow as his thum of his heart. How pitiful they must think of he. He who was and is worth a whole a brigade on his own. He who damned the beast titan to rot in purgatory. and yet ---- it is he who feels stabbed. feels bruised & torn apart. crumbling like the fallen Roman empire. arcadia everlasting. rise up onto rotten corpses molting into the soil. here : there is always a hunger never to sate. a survival starving sewn between ashen bones, laced to the core of bone morrow. survive without a fourth of his heart. a soft thum echoing in the broken chest, betwixt a barely collapsing rib cage   
**  
**_**( heart made of glass, my mind of stone )**_ **  
**  
_Hange. How could you. . . Mike. . . I don’t even know what happened to you. . . Erwin. You bastards._ There is pressure building and it spills like the sea they have seen. Waves crashing, and he is sinking. Salt lingers on his tongue and it feels like it is slowly dripping into his lungs. Suffocating. He thought them invincible at one point ( how such youth can be so naïve -- can you taste the black tar upon your ashen tongue **_?_** ) it is here it starts. wildfire burning / _i._ consumed. _ii._ defeated. _iii._ **THERE’S TOO MUCH.**   
  
fractured skull giving weight to memories. giving weight to the what if’s. sunken in battle, emotional flight response – no. it is _desperation_. a hand reaching from the dark, blood stains fingers clawing at whatever life they can cling too. he was willing to save **ANYONE**. wasn’t there anyone **_?_** half bodies spilling out rotten roses, faded eyes of a body-less head, their screams still ring in his ears. their dead eyes still burn into his very own core. he was willing to save anyone right **_?_** dedicate your heart. . . not even a hug. nothing to hold onto of them. Of Erwin, he has nothing, of Mike? Nothing. Hange? . . . finger tips graze the stitches that run along his skin, how ironic. a left eye for them, a right eye for he : always the right hand man of the commanders. ruined savior. yes. **apocalyptia** becomes he : a vice. religion. mantra. a weapon forged of destruction. 

_**( tear me to pieces, skin & bone )**_

re : they said themselves. their time had come and they wanted to go out with a bang. damned idiot. a small sound leaves his lips and he touches his cheek, admiring the wetness left on his skin. Seems like he still has heart strings left & tears to shed after all. His body aches, age? or maybe it was the weight of all those corpses he left behind. a inhale, sharp and shuddering. It’s as if they never left him, he can practical hear them. _Hange, watch over us. If you see Mike. . . Tell him hi for me. If you see Erwin. ._ . breath hitches. After all these years, is it not long enough? each thought that followed like a new jaw of a titan clenching down on his chest. what was the right choice **_?_** disobeying Erwin’s last wish **_?_** saving a youth who grew too fast **_?_ &** will now turn to ash just the same. irony in his very touch **_!_** damnable **&** sweet like spoiled honey. a moment of redemption, on his knees **&** seeking the sweet taste of savory. **tell Erwin I did it. I kept my promise : I killed the Beast titan.** he is destruction. forged into a singular weapon meant to save lives **&** yet he had not saved anyone’s. Gaze shifts briefly to what little team is left before looking away again. Armin will die but now the time is short, and now he is the Commander of the what is left of their corpses. the clock is ticking for all of them their graves have been marked early. a sharp stillness lay in his expression as he gazes as the sky filled with endless stars. he reaches upwards and for a moment, he falters. touches soft as ever, cold as the winter winds they experienced. one, two, three skeletal hands he feels, wrapping around the hand that has lost fingers, _**( hello, welcome home. )**_


End file.
